Bully
by JohnnysGotAnAddiction
Summary: Karofsky is a bully and bullies always win.     Rated M for rape, dark themes, homophobia, bad language and general mind-fuckery.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a dark, dark fic that contains a brutal rape, homophobia, bad language and other dark and twisted things that make me happy inside. I don't own any of the characters - I just make bad things happen to them.**

**I'm British, and as such, American slang and terminology might be a little out, though I've tried my best. I've only watched the show up to the episode where THE kiss happens, so it might not be canon. I hope you enjoy it anyway. It was inspired by a great fic, 'Victims don't tell' by 'Necrofeeliak'. If you haven't read it, I suggest you check it out =] Now, on with the story...**

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Dave Karofsky was a bully.

It was a title bestowed upon him ever since the second grade, when he and a couple of his friends had cornered a smaller kid in the school bathroom and proceeded to take turns punching him in the stomach and relished the sounds of his anguish. It could have been because he was smaller than they were. Maybe it was the fact that he wore glasses and they didn't. Perhaps it was because that even way back then, at such a young age, he could somehow sense in his inner instinct that this kid was different. That this kid was a homo and as such, deserved to be mistreated. Whatever the reason, that single act defined Dave's life from that point. He was, and always would be, a bully.

If he had the choice, he would have picked a different label for himself altogether. He'd rather have liked to be clever, but there was no chance of that; all you had to do was look at every report card he had ever received to know that that would never happen. He'd have settled for being funny, but not everyone seemed to laugh with him. Sure, his buddies would laugh and high five him when he slammed someone into the lockers or threw a slushie in an unsuspecting face, but it was mean laughter after a cruel deed, not the type of warm laughter after someone had told a particularly funny joke.

Mostly, he just wanted to be liked. He was popular, sure, but for all the wrong reasons. He liked that people were afraid of him; it meant that nobody was dumb enough to mess with him, but he did sometimes wish that this wasn't the case. People at school seemed to avoid him at any cost and this pleased and angered him in equal measures.

It was Sunday evening, and he was naked and looking at himself in the full length mirror in his bathroom at home. He was, as always, disgusted with what he saw. Truthfully, there was no need for Dave to feel like this, and maybe someday he would grow out of that phase and when looking back, realise that like most teenagers, he was just at a self conscious and self-loathing point in his life. But on this very day, all he saw when he looked at himself was a hairy useless lump, a good for nothing waste of space. A fucking _fag_.

The mere thought of the word as it crossed his mind repulsed him, and he visibly jolted, like he had been struck with a hot poker. He couldn't be gay, he _wouldn't_ be gay. He wasn't a homo. He was tough, he was strong, he wouldn't take shit from anyone and anyone that tried to give him shit would have found themselves in hospital, every bone in their body broken. Homos wouldn't do that. They'd lie down and they would take it. The very idea that he could be one of... _them_... it offended his entire being deeply.

Dave's whole body shook with rage and he watched his mirror double go through the same. He bunched his hands into fists and gritted his teeth, mentally forcing himself to hold back and to not punch the mirror like he so wanted to do. It was the same every time he had gay thoughts - he wanted to reach out and hurt something. Or someone. It didn't matter what or who it was; the only purpose of said thing or person served as only one need: An outlet for the self-loathing that was bottled up inside of him. He needed to cause hurt to lessen the hurt he had inside himself.

He_ wasn't_ gay, he wasn't. A gay guy wouldn't chase every bit of skirt at McKinley High. It didn't matter if most of the girls at school weren't interested in his advances, it didn't bother him. But it proved that he wasn't a homo, because homos didn't try and get with girls. And that time that he found himself staring at Terrence Fisher's ass a little longer than necessary didn't matter - he had put that incident down to the fact that Terrence, like himself, was a jock and jocks compared other jocks bodies in the locker room. It didn't make him queer. Didn't make him like Hummel.

Hummel. Kurt fucking Hummel, who walked around the school all high and mighty, like he hadn't a care in the world. He was so unashamed of being the way he was that it made Dave feel sick inside. It was like he didn't even care that he was gay, that he was a homo, and acted like it wasn't a bad thing at all. On the contrary, he acted like it was completely normal, didn't even fucking _try_ to hide what he truly was. And though the beatings kept coming and coming - mostly at the hand of Dave's own fists - it didn't change who he was. And it frustrated him that after every beating, it only seemed to make him gayer. More open. Even more fucking high and mighty. Aside from beating him to his death, Dave wasn't sure what it would take to stop Hummel flaunting his sexuality in his face. Taunting him with it. Making him want what he couldn't have...

_Fuck_, there were those thoughts again. Dave had stripped himself of his clothes in the bathroom in order to have a shower, but he couldn't trust himself to have one now, not with those thoughts lurking about his mind waiting to corrupt him. When he was thinking of those things, when he was thinking of Kurt Hummel and all the other things he shouldn't have been thinking about, it was like an uncontrollable sensation flooded his body. And he found that when he was naked and thinking of Kurt Hummel and all the other things he shouldn't have been thinking about, that his hands - through no fault of his own - crept down to his dick and tugged at it until he felt sweet release.

And he _would_ be released. For a second that is. A second was all he had until his whole body was then engulfed into a snarling, disbelieving rage because he had just done what he shouldn't have done thinking about things he shouldn't have been thinking about. He snatched his boxers from the floor and put them on. His dick strained against the tight material but he didn't and wouldn't do anything about it now. He put on his socks, and then his jeans, before pulling his sweater over his head. He felt better now. Better now that he couldn't see his own betrayal - rock hard and desperate despite his best efforts to will those thoughts that made his dick hard away. He picked up his dry, unused towel from the floor and unlocked and opened the bathroom door, making his way down the corridor to his bedroom.

He could hear shouting downstairs; the usual obscenities being thrown back and forth by his parents. When it first started, back when he was eleven or so, he felt compelled to go down there to protect his mother from his father's unpredictable rages. But he soon learnt that his mother gave as good as she got. Whether she was throwing glasses at his father, who had to duck out of the way to escape being struck by one of them, or he was laying into his mother, one hand around her throat and the other smacking the shit out of her for no excuse other than the fact he needed an outlet for his anger didn't matter. It all led to the same conclusion: That no matter what Dave did, or what he said, or how much he got involved, it would all end the same. They would apologise to each other, they would make up with each other, and they would then both tell Dave that he was a disappointment as a son, an embarrassment to the family and a waste of human life.

He didn't know if it stemmed from the time his dad found the Internet history on his computer when he was thirteen. Faced with all the gay porn sites that Dave had frequently browsed didn't sit too well with the burly, senior Karofsky male and he had shown his disapproval the best way he knew how: with his fists. It was because of that incident that his parents seemed to hate him, either that, or just because Dave really was a waste of human life as they so frequently told him after they'd screamed a torrent of abuse at each other. Either way, he certainly hadn't dared to go online again for any reason, unless the house was completely empty and in the instances that it was, he now made sure to delete anything and everything that belied the fact that he wasn't queer.

Upon entering his bedroom, he shut the door behind him and leant his back against it and heavily sighed. He looked around the four walls of his spacious haven. This was not a homo's room. Posters of semi naked chicks adorned almost every inch of the four walls, along with a couple of posters of bikes, and wrestlers he admired. Nothing gay about that. Sure, Hummel probably had posters of his idolised female pop stars and actresses in his faggy bedroom too, but that was because he wished he _was_ them, no doubt. So guys would look at his worthless ass and think of him in the way guys looked at girls and wanted them. Maybe he had some posters of wrestlers in his room too, to perv over them and masturbate while thinking about unnatural acts taking place between them. The idea disgusted Dave to his core. He had posters of wrestlers in his room because he was a jock, because jocks kept their bodies in shape and admired other jocks who kept their bodies in shape and there was nothing wrong with checking out the competition, especially if the competition was a still image that wouldn't suddenly shout out and accuse him of staring at their tight abs, their perfect arms… the way their wrestling underwear clung so fucking tightly to their muscled bodies...

_Fuck_. He was finding it hard to escape the thoughts today. His room suddenly didn't feel like a safe haven anymore and he banged the back of his head against his bedroom door, in an attempt to shatter these thoughts from his soul. He wasn't queer. He _wasn't_. His car keys lay on the desk next to his computer - the one he dared not use unless he had complete privacy - and he grabbed them before he flung open his bedroom door and ran down the stairs two at a time. His parents were still arguing, over what he didn't know. But it meant that they barely registered him as he passed through the lounge where they were shouting vehemently at each other which made him wonder why they were even still together.

If they heard the front door slam, they certainly didn't react to it as Dave could still hear them even as he was outside and the bile continued to spew out of their mouths, certainly not lessening at his departure. It was nine o'clock at night and as they were in early February and Winter had not yet surpassed the town, it was dark outside. Making his way to his car, he unlocked the door and got in the drivers seat before he slammed the door shut behind him. The silence was treacherously golden. Silence meant he could escape the hell of his home life. Silence meant he was faced with the inner voices in his mind. The ones that told him to give up the pretence and live his life being who he truly was. He turned his key in the ignition and the rumbling of the engine interrupted the silence.

It wasn't fair. Even driving as fast as he was, he could still see blurred figures on the streets as he passed them by; some of them couples, holding hands, obviously in love. That's what he wanted. He couldn't be gay. He couldn't be. He _wasn't_. Wasn't like Hummel. Hummel embraced his sick lifestyle; made it seem like everyone opposed to it was in the wrong and he was oblivious to the fact that indulging in his disgusting desires didn't make him some sort of out-and-proud hero, it made him a freak. This very fact angered Dave the most. He wasn't gay, and he would kick the shit out of anyone who accused him of it but he had to admit that he wasn't normal. But that was fine, because he kept his feelings repressed and made out like he was like everybody else and ultimately, in the end, he _would_ be like everybody else, no matter how much his mind tried to trick him, to make him submit. Fags submitted. Straight guys did not.

And yet, did Hummel really submit? Had he ever? He had drove his fists into that fags stomach more times than he could remember and it hadn't changed a thing. Hummel was still proud and Dave still had self hatred coursing through every inch of his entire body. He hated him. He hated him more than he had ever hated anyone or anything in his entire life. Because he was a constant reminder; a constant teasing and a constant taunting reminder that Hummel was true to himself and he was not. It infuriated him to no end and he pushed his foot down on the accelerator just that little bit harder to go just that little bit faster. A horn tooted from the car in front of him, no doubt a warning to back off. Fags backed off. Straight guys did not.

He hated thinking about Hummel, yet these days his thoughts revolved around nothing else. From the moment he woke up to the moment he drifted off to sleep, it seemed all he thought about was Kurt fucking Hummel. The boy wasn't even anything special. He didn't have the build of Azimio, nor the good looks of Terrence, (not that he was paying attention to other guys bodies or good looks, as he wasn't gay). He could have snapped Hummel in two without breaking a sweat. He _wanted_ to break Hummel in two - wanted to completely destroy the boy that had been haunting his thoughts and not allowing Dave a chance, not a single chance to just focus on the objective and be _normal_. He wanted to annihilate him, make him see once and for all that despite his best efforts; despite the fact that he acted like he was in the right and everybody else was in the wrong, that at the end of the day, he deserved to be punished for what he was. It wasn't _right_. It would never be right. He overtook the car in front, even though it meant illegally going onto the other side of the road where he could potentially collide into oncoming traffic. When his car had fully passed, he swerved back into the correct lane of the road, and accelerated even harder and drove even faster.

Kurt Hummel should have been strangled at birth. Dave certainly would have done the act if Hummel happened to be his son - he would have been doing the planet all over a service at killing him at birth, so he wouldn't have the opportunity to corrupt and turn others who were trying to lead normal lives. Normal people didn't need that shit thrown at them. Hummel's dad, Burt, was it? Burt was a friend of his dad, still is in fact, despite that Dave's dad put Burt's boy down at very opportunity behind his back, and why shouldn't he? Hummel was a fag and he deserved it. But it puzzled Dave, because Burt, although he was an old guy, clearly used to be like a jock like him, one of _them_. And _they_ don't tolerate faggots, not now, not ever. And yet his son came out of the closet and he didn't so much as bat an eyelid.

Dave would have battered the shit out of the spineless little cunt, had it been his son, because he would rather have no son at all than have a disappointment as a son, an embarrassment to the family and a waste of human life. He could see it so vividly - could see himself so clearly on top of Hummel's skinny body, one hand clamped tightly around the boys throat as he choked the life out of him. Go to sleep gay boy, go to sleep forever so you can no longer infect us decent human beings. Could see him losing consciousness, could see Hummel's lifeless body beneath him, completely open to anything that he could and would subject him to. Hummel was a fag and he needed to be taught that lying down and accepting that particular role in life wasn't right. He would pin him down and he would enjoy the pitiful struggle beneath him as Hummel eventually realised he would have to accept the fate Dave was about to bestow upon him...

_Fuck_, he was there again, and he pressed his foot on the accelerator even harder. At moments like this, Dave prayed for a brick wall to appear in front of him just so he could drive straight into it and end his torture forever. At times like this, he simply wanted to die. He couldn't live like this, and yet he was angry at the thought of Hummel making him feel like he should end his life, just because he wouldn't stop unashamedly flaunting his own. It was _his_ fault that he was this way. Cars, traffic lights, street lights, figures on the street and houses all whizzed by as Dave drove even faster to escape his own torment. Hummel, and his kind, had ruined his life. Had Dave not known that there were other options out there, he would have had a normal life; wife and two kids in a house in the suburbs and everything would have been normal and fine. But it was Hummel swanning around school like he owned the place that had violated him; made him turn into something that he could have avoided if he didn't have temptation lingering so close. He hated him. He fucking hated him...

Dave suddenly became conscious of the fact that he was driving too fast and if he didn't slow down and collect his thoughts, that he would crash his car. And though the thought of his car colliding head on with a lamppost and wrapping itself around it with him in it soothed him in a weird way, he wouldn't give Hummel the fucking satisfaction. He decreased the speed and remembered what Hummel had said to him last Friday. _You are nothing but a scared little boy who can't handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are_. Fuck you, Hummel and fuck everything that you stand for. Those words were like a knife to his gut. He was anything but ordinary. If he was ordinary he wouldn't have given those words a second thought - but the mantra of Hummel's words had been on a constant loop through his mind over the entire weekend and he felt that if he didn't do something about it he would snap.

Another car horn sounded from nowhere, causing Dave to hit his brakes. He took in sharp gasps of breath deeply as he realised how close he'd come to hitting the car in front of him; how close he had come to ending it all, just like he wanted and yet what he refused to do because it would mean that that faggot would win. He took a right and then pulled into the kerb before switching his engine off entirely, left with silence being interrupted by the sound of his own heavy breathing. His thoughts were out of control and he wanted to take it out on something, right now. He hit his steering wheel in frustration, but it did not feed the anger that coursed through his veins. And then, a gift from the angels above.

Hummel.

Kurt fucking Hummel walking down the very road he had just parked on. He switched off his car lights and though the disappearance of the glow shadowed Hummel's appearance, he could still see the way he strutted down the street. In his feminine, fairy clothes, his feminine, fairy way that he walked down the street, clutching his fucking fairy handbag like he was a fucking woman. A woman all alone down a dark street. Hummel was no better than the useless girls at school, and it was no wonder that Dave never stood a chance; not with the frigid bitches that attended McKinley. No matter how hard he tried, they were never interested in him, never gave him a fucking _chance_ to prove how utterly ordinary he was. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as Hummel approached. Such a confident walk for a faggot roaming the dark streets as though he had every right to do so - just like any normal human being, only Hummel wasn't normal, wasn't _right_. He was a faggot freak of human nature and to Dave it seemed that if nobody had taught him his place in life, then he was justified to do just that right here, right now. Dave's heartbeat was drumming up an explosion and it showed in the way he was breathing so heavily. But he paid no attention to that. He only paid attention to the figure looming ever so closer - that cocky strut, the swinging of the hips, his feminine clothes and his girly features and fuck, it didn't matter at this precise moment what was right and what was wrong and what Dave should have been doing and what he shouldn't - all he felt was the burning, consuming hatred inside of him. And he needed it sated.

He allowed Hummel to pass his car. The boy didn't even glance inside. Why would he? He thought he was perfectly safe, perfectly justified in walking down a dark road at night like any other normal human being would have, the idea of an assault barely crossing his mind. He was about to learn that that would be the biggest mistake of his life...

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**There'll be another chapter of this. Hopefully sometime this week. If you enjoyed then please review :) I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments about the fic.**

**Johnny. x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys =]**

**Thanks to everyone that has reviewed this so far, I really, _really_ enjoy reading what people think of my stuff, whether you reckon it's good, bad or "in no way canon and kind of unnecessary..." :D  
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**I was going to wait until tomorrow to put this up, seeing as the new episode is on here tonight and there might have been something in it that made me change my mind or give me an idea, but it was completed and I was just itching to get it out. So here it is!**

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Dave watched the slender figure of Hummel pass by his car and then locked his gaze onto the wing mirror, intently watching his retreating form. His hips swayed slightly as he walked, a real fucking girly walk that was even more accentuated with his choice of apparel that day and that goddamn fairy handbag swung over his shoulder that he was clutching so tightly to his body. He was pure prey all over; anyone could see that - even watching Hummel's back as he walked away from where Dave was parked, ready and waiting in the dark, it could still be told that he was a victim. From the way his head darted nervously from side to side at the slightest hint of any noise. From the way the bitterly cold wind made his hair blow in all directions that forced Hummel to smooth it down with his hand self-consciously, only for it to be whipped into a frenzy the second he took his hand away. Every action, every single little _gay_ action that he did infuriated Dave to no end, making anger course through his veins. Fuck, he had to do this. He _had_ to. Hummel needed to be taught a lesson. That he couldn't expect to go through life acting the way he did and not realise that there were consequences in being what he was. Dave opened the car door and got out quietly, one hand resting on the open door as he turned to face the ever retreating figure of Hummel walking into the night, so small, so skinny, so weak. And about to be all _his_.

He slammed the car door and as predicted, even from so far away he could see Hummel visibly jump out of his skin at the sound it made before he twirled (fucking _twirled_) around to confront the danger that was going to change his life forever by the time the night was through, not that he knew that though. Yet.

Dave smirked to himself. He could feel Hummel's fear and it was intoxicating. He started to walk towards him, vaguely pushing the button on his car keys, satisfied when he heard the two beeps that indicated the car was locked. Hummel had begun to continue on his journey, though Dave could tell that he was intimidated now by his body language. The shoulders were slightly hunched. His body was more drawn in on itself. He couldn't see the knuckles of the hand on the strap of his bag, but would bet his car that they were white from gripping it so hard. Such an obvious target. Hummel never really stood a chance, did he? His pace had quickened even more so now that he knew someone was on his back, but that was fine; Dave was much bigger than he and could take bigger steps, which he did so, distancing the gap between them slowly but surely. Dave's heartbeat was pounding like crazy and the rush of blood in his ears felt deafening even though the street was deserted and silent except for the sound of boots hitting sidewalk. Dave could sense that Hummel was dying to turn around to survey the situation but couldn't bring himself to do it. Probably thought that if he kept his head down and minded his own business, that nothing bad would happen to him tonight. Oh, but what irony - the boy who not only wouldn't hide his gayness but repeatedly rammed it down everybody's throats until they were choking on it was now keeping himself to himself. Too little, too late, Hummel. Too little, too late.

Dave quickened his pace even more. He was gaining on the little fucker now. If Hummel walked any faster, he'd be pushed into a light jog but even then, that would have been no match for him to catch up to. And he was still getting ever closer. It was like a sharp, relentless high note that refused to stop even though it was at breaking point but would only be broken as soon as he laid hands on Hummel. Dave knew it was going to happen. He certainly hadn't planned it when he woke up that morning but now it seemed so right. It was fate, it had to be. Stopping his car on a dark street which Hummel just happened to be walking down with no witnesses in sight just had to be fate. As Dave bridged the gap even more as he took longer strides the high note grew louder, piercing shrilly in his ears. Fuck, Hummel was so close he could taste him. The boy hadn't left his mind in he didn't know how long. Every waking thought of the day always seemed to somehow link back to Hummel and it infuriated him. He _needed_ to do this, to get it out of his head before it drove him crazy.

_So _close now. The high note reached ear-splitting proportions and he thought his ear drums were going to burst as he started to sprint up to Hummel, the idea that he would have the bitch on its back in a couple of seconds burning in his heart. The agonising high note dominating his entire being sounded like a million mirrors shattering all at the same time, the roaring sound it made was unbearable but it vanished as soon as he grabbed the boy from behind with both hands, before using his strength and ample size to push him brutishly from his grip, with such force that he was sent sprawling to the floor, his head banging off the sidewalk satisfactorily. Dave didn't do anything for a while except stand over him, breathing heavily, though he had hardly broke a sweat from knocking a faggot like Hummel to the ground. He was athletic. He was not a fucking chubby boy that sweated too much, not that he cared what Hummel fucking thought of him, it's not like his opinion actually mattered. Hummel's words had nevertheless struck him and hurt him and perhaps if Dave had thought about it long and hard, he would have realised how it made him feel must have been only a fraction of how he made Hummel feel every second of every day. He heard the smaller guy groan in agony at the assault and the sensation it sent to his dick almost made Dave groan out loud as well, though for an entirely different reason. He wasn't Hummel's type? Well then it was a shame Hummel wasn't going to have a say in the matter now, wasn't it? He was about to get him out of his mind once and for all. He casually kicked the boy in his ribs before using his boot to roll him over onto his back.

The shock was like a million lit cigarettes being stubbed out on his skin at once and he wanted to howl in agony and hurt someone. It wasn't Hummel. The boy, so slender and small, had a line of blood trickling from a gash on his forehead, bleeding exactly the way Hummel should have been bleeding, only it wasn't him. The tears streaming shamelessly down his cheeks should have been Hummel's tears, only he wasn't there to cry them. The silent pleading in his eyes as he stared Dave down, begging with every bone in his body to not break any of them, should have been Hummel begging, should have been satisfying to Dave, but it was not. He let out a roar of frustration and the rapid blinking of the boy on the floor, the way his face scrunched up in fear at the sound Dave had made only served to fuel his anger more. He delivered more kicks to the ribs, rougher this time, boots drawn back fully before striking him with all the force he could muster into them. The high note was back now. Shrillingly taunting him, piercing his ear drums and infiltrating his brain and he kicked and kicked in automated rapid succession one after the other, trying to make each one hurt more than the last. He had needed this tonight. And the fact that he now wasn't going to get it only made him more determined in his sufferable quest.

He hadn't known how long he'd been beating on the boy for. All he knew was that by the time the high note was finally quieting and the hazy cloud of anger was slowly starting to ebb away, he had looked down and saw the full extent of what his rage had done. He didn't know the boy, but was sure that whoever did would have a hard time recognising him right now. His once pale skin, so similar to Hummel's, was now coated red; a dark, ugly, blood-red, bleeding profusely from various gashes and scrapes on his face that he had stood no chance in protecting from Dave's fury. His nose was broken, there was no doubt about that, and the river streaming from his crushed nostrils from which Dave had repeatedly stomped his boots onto, was leaking into his slightly parted mouth. The once ruby red lips, so soft like Hummel's, were now a garish extremity of the colour they once were, leaving them swollen and bloody, like a tainted whore's. Dave surveyed the scene below him calmly. The boy was breathing; his chest was still rising and falling even despite the choked gargles that managed to escape his throat that indicated he was having trouble doing so. Dave looked at him one last time before he turned on his heel and made his way back to his car.

He'd wake up. Probably. Wouldn't know who had done it. He might remember what his attacker looked like, but so what? There was nothing distinguishable about him, he was… _extraordinarily ordinary_. He'd made sure he wasn't wearing his varsity jacket that would link him to any particular school. No, this was just one more night where one more faggot had gotten jumped, to be writ off the next day as just another one of those poor, unfortunate incidents in which some poor, unfortunate gay kid almost lost his life. There had been several of these incidents in the last three months or so. Isolating Hummel long enough for him to do what he needed to do was not an easy task, and the wait, followed by the crushed disappointment of his ever distracted mind leading him to the wrong boy yet again was slowly driving Dave Karofsky insane.

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**I know, this chapter is way shorter than the first one. I changed my mind at the last minute when writing it - up until Dave turned the guy onto his back, I was planning it to be Kurt and I was planning on Dave to get him. But he's just going to have to wait a little longer to satisfy his need :)**

**This one took a week to get up but I have a feeling that the next one will be longer. I try not to give myself deadlines, because I end up frustrated or panicked when I can't come up with anything and then let down when I don't make it on time. But i'll work on it as much and as often as I can and get it out as soon as it's done.**

**Johnny. X  
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	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys :)**

**Thanks to all that reviewed. Here's the next chapter =] **

**There's a nasty scene that takes place in this chapter. Just so you know.**

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Dave Karofsky was not right in the head.

This was only the general census of others though; Dave thought himself perfectly justified in his behaviour. The ever burning fury building up in his chest at not being able to get his hands on Hummel was beginning to show and his hands had actually started to become itchy from the lack of contact. Sure, he had still encountered him in the school halls and sure, he had still slammed him into the lockers or shoved him as hard as he could whenever he had the opportunity, but the problem was he _didn't_ always have the opportunity and the bigger problem was that these actions were now not enough to sate his ever growing appetite. Pushing Hummel around, tripping him up or knocking his books to the floor once pleased him. Now it only served to temporarily feed his rage and it angered him that he wanted to do so much more but couldn't.

These days Hummel rarely left anybody's side. Or maybe they didn't leave his. Four faggots had been almost battered to death in what looked like a string of hate crimes sweeping the local area and it seemed that nobody was prepared to take any chances in leaving Hummel alone. Dave had been watching him for weeks. Fiercely independent Kurt, whose eyes had always shone bright was now beginning to retract into himself, sparkling blue becoming defeated and beaten into a lifeless, dull submission. Hummel had always stood alone. Both through choice, because he was that narcissistic and wanted the whole world to look at him and through no choice of his own - because he was the only person in the entire school to love his perverted lifestyle.

Now, it was like he was almost being stifled by someone having to be around him twenty four seven. Fiercely independent Kurt, who had always been the most vocal and worked so hard to change everybody else rather than changing himself, was now being told that he wasn't safe because of what he was. And Hummel couldn't break the shackles this time because if he did, he might end up dead. Maybe it was beginning to sink into his ugly skull that he was wrong, and had been wrong the entire time. Even if it had, it would be too late now. He had infiltrated Dave's mind to the point of no return. If Dave didn't fix this little obsession soon, there'd be no telling what would happen.

And there was no let up for Dave. Every minute of his day was spent thinking of Hummel and when he closed his eyes at night, he was all he ever dreamed about. He was haunting him, taunting him, always in reach and yet never available for Dave's indulgencies. He wanted to tear him from limb to limb with his bare hands, to tear his flesh and taint him ugly. He could practically feel Hummel's skin and blood embedded underneath his fingernails and it spurned him to tear him more, to hurt him more. The itching in his hands had started to come back.

It was the most vicious cycle - and one that lasted for an unbearably long time. Days rolled into weeks and weeks into months. And soon months had flown past and it had got to the point where Dave had started to hear voices. He wasn't worried - it wasn't voices in the psychotic sense; it was just Hummel all the time, in his mind. Speaking to him in that simpering, girly voice that made him sick to his stomach. Relayed words of conversations they'd had in the past. All too vivid images in Dave's mind where Hummel had infected him - had made him have all these thoughts and put them in his head in the first place. Brushing past too close to him in the hallways, coming into school when he was sick and passing on his gay germs, and those times where Dave had him pinned against a locker, feeding threats and insults into Hummel's ear, leaning in close to deliver them and Hummel's fear smelling so fucking _good_ that Dave would get hard and then have to drive a fist into the smaller boy's gut for leading him on like that.

And for every month that passed, the voices grew louder and more determined every time Dave would lay eyes on Hummel and whichever one of his glee freaks was accompanying him that day. Hummel would sometimes catch his eye and look down to the floor as he'd correctly taught him, but then Dave would hear him, almost in a sing-song melodic tone. _This is what you'll never have. This is what you'll never have_. He would look around, to see if anybody else could hear Kurt blatantly challenging his authority like this, but there was never any reaction. Like it was their own little private joke, just him and Hummel, Hummel laughing at him and leaving Dave with no way of doing anything about it. He had smashed things, punched walls, terrorised kids at school and had gotten into more fights in these past months than in his whole life. One particularly nasty fight had landed him a two week suspension, which he was now in the middle of serving.

And if Dave had been slightly unhinged before, whilst he was attending school and still getting his daily Hummel fix, it was nothing compared to being stuck at home, feverishly wondering what Hummel was doing, how he was doing, who he was speaking to, who he was with… And the thought of all his hard work he had put into his dehumanisation of Kurt; how he had beaten and degraded him into a somewhat guilty, ever-flinching cheap imitation of his former self, now becoming undone in his forced absence made his blood boil.

It was Thursday night, four days into the suspension, when Dave finally snapped. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he had some sort of idea what the outcome would be. It wouldn't be enough, it was _never_ enough, but it would bide him some more time for now at least.

He waited until it had just gone eleven and the sky was dark before he got dressed in anonymous clothes. Plain black. No school logos, no distinguishing marks or features to incriminate him. His parents were arguing about something again, but he barely heard them, barely heard anything these days. Nothing but Hummel, always close, ever-taunting.

He drove fast, as always. The faster the speed, the louder the roar of the engine got and it served its purpose by allowing him a small release from his stifling imprisonment; to drown out the voices and laughter of Hummel. A fleeting thought passed through his mind that Hummel might be at the destination he was making his way to, though he didn't allow himself the luxury of fully exploring the idea of such a chance encounter, though it would be absolutely perfect. He wouldn't be surprised if Hummel was an attendee at such a place, it seemed exactly like his sort of thing. But with the mood Dave was in, anything would do right now.

The journey seemed to be over in minutes, though almost half an hour had actually passed. When Dave had parked his car and switched off the engine, he sat there for a while, panting heavily as though he had just completed a marathon. The palms of his hands were clammy against the steering wheel but he still gripped it as tightly as he could regardless, because it was the only thing that was stopping the itching in his hands from coming back. His dick was hard and he hated himself for it yet knew that he would get release. He _had_ to, for the sake of his sanity. It might be all that he needed tonight, to get off and go. But anyhow there was a Hummel waiting for him; a slim young fucking fairy faggot gazing adoringly at him, like he was his fucking _boyfriend_ or something, well… Dave knew then that tonight would be the night that queer number five was to join the gay bashed list.

It seemed so obvious. A park. Surrounded by thick bushes and protective trees. Situated away from houses and public gathering spots. There was only one reason to go to such a place at night and everybody in the surrounding area knew what it was. Dave had become quite the frequent visitor. Frightened to the point of near sickness the first time, he had closed his eyes and stood there with his fists clenched next to his sides when the man had unzipped his jeans, pulled out his cock and then proceeded to give him an amazing blowjob that made him cum in minutes. When he was done, he had zipped back up and without a word, had gone back to his car satisfied. Most times it was rewarding. It was only when he encountered the Hummel's of the scene that caused him to go mad. They deserved it. They were so blatant in what they were it disgusted him. And yet, in a bizarre way, he would welcome these boys as much as he would resent and be repulsed by them. He never hid the contempt he held for them from his face and yet it never stopped any of them. Too eager in their love for sucking dick like some horny bitch. Too eager to please him, to look up from their position on their knees and smile up at him, no doubt lost in some dumb fantasy that he would take them home and look after them, be the strong jock boyfriend they could be proud of, and they would be his Hummel, his delicate trophy that he would protect and love. Never once did it cross their puny little minds that what they needed protecting from was him, until it was too late.

He slipped silently from his car and shut the door behind him, before he made his way up the now familiar footpath that led into the eastern side of the notorious park. The sort of park your parents warn you to stay away from at night as anything could happen. Dave knew all too well what could happen. He kept his footsteps light and as quiet as he could, before he settled on a spot he had favoured in the past, that was mostly well hidden by thick shrubbery, but yet had a good vantage point of what was going on in front of him. There were a couple of old men, neither interested in the other, and both trying to peer at him through the dark, trying to glean his age, his build, his dangerousness. There was also a married man, nervously shuffling in a spot near to Dave, blinking a lot behind his owlish glasses and twiddling the gold band on his finger, looking like he was internally trying to decide whether he was going to do this or not. Dave knew that he would. They all did, eventually.

Dave pushed further through the shrubbery, looking to see what else was about. Ultimately it didn't matter who did it, as long as he did what he needed them to, but he still looked. Maybe he _was_ trying to find a Hummel. He had been so furious lately that maybe it _was_ time that he let off some steam and punished the filthy cunt.

A twig snapped from behind him and as Dave turned around to see what made the noise, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The fist, adorned with a steel knuckleduster, coming towards his chin seemed to move so unhurriedly, that it looked easy to dodge, but Dave was in slow motion too and was struck full force by the weapon. It was the coldness of the steel he felt first, cooling his flushed face, before the actual intensity of the pain was fed to his brain and his chin burned up at the sheer hurt the blow had caused him. He tried to lift his arms to protect himself, but another punch, just above his right eye was driven straight at him, causing him to lose his footing and stumble backwards onto his back. He could feel the warm blood begin to trickle from the cut but he couldn't do anything about it as his assailant crouched over him and began to rain blow after blow with the effective weapon down onto Dave's face. Through the tears and blood, Dave could see the fury and hatred in his attackers eyes and Dave silently begged for mercy with his own, silently trying to put the message across that he was just like him, that he was not one of _them_ and had just came here because he needed to get off and get away.

But mercy was not granted, nor any similarities recognised as the hits kept coming relentlessly. It wasn't until one particularly brutal strike with the knuckleduster, right to Dave's jaw that loosened a couple of his teeth and made his mouth fill up with blood that he coughed and spluttered over himself did the attacker stop, standing above him, breathing heavily, and watching Dave on his back look up at him pathetically. In a spinning daze, Dave could see he was probably about the same height as him, though not as big. He tried to find anything that would put him closer to who this guy was, but he was as inconspicuous in his plain black clothes as he was, and it was too dark to see his face properly. Dave groaned in pain as the guys booted foot roughly kicked him and rolled him onto his stomach before he felt the guys weight drop onto his back. Dave knew what was coming and tried to struggle then, tried his best to shove the guy from on top of him, but the hits to the face had weakened him and upon struggling, a couple more hits of steel to his skull certainly beat him down to whimpered submission.

The attackers hands were pushing down firmly on Dave's shoulders and he felt the coldness of the knuckleduster brushing against his skin, serving as a reminder of what it would do should Dave try and stop this from happening. Dave was numb at this point, but if he wasn't, he probably would have cried. Especially when he felt the hands clawing at his jeans, wrestling them down to his ankles and then following suit with his boxer shorts, before he felt a knee between his legs, forcing itself upwards and driving his legs apart to gain access. It was then that Dave pulled out his final act of desperation and began begging. Incoherent and slurred but authentic begging. He moaned as he choked out and choked on his pleas that not only seemed to fall on deaf ears, but also made the man above him more excited, who viciously grabbed and squeezed his ass with his hands every time he begged just that little bit harder.

There was a rustling, jangling sound and Dave knew that his assailant was starting to unbuckle his belt to take his own jeans off and then, it would be too late. Dave pushed with all his might and managed to throw the guy from on top of him, but in his haste to get away, ended up tripping over his bunched up jeans still around his ankles and before he had time to steady himself, he was struck with more blows to the head, more furious ones this time around - because his attacker had done all that hard work for nothing and it seemed like, for a moment, it might all come undone and leave him hungrier than he was before. Dave sank his head to the floor, too weak to even try to protect himself from any further strikes and it was only until the attacker was convinced he had stopped fighting back that he let up.

Dave let out a bitter sob as he recognised all too well what was going on in this guys mind as he collapsed his weight back onto Dave's back and began driving his knee up between his legs again. He thought he was going to vomit from the disgust, pain and shame he was going through right now. If only he could take it back, he would take back every word, every action, everything he had ever did or said to Kurt, or any of the others, that had hurt them, or frightened them. _This_ was frightening. He felt like pure prey. And he didn't like it one bit.

Dave's felt the guys cock nudge against his virgin ass and tears, silent ones this time, began to cascade down his cheeks. He gritted his teeth, bunched his fists and clenched his ass cheeks as tightly as he could, in the hope that he couldn't gain entrance. But the guy was not considerate, not gentle, and clearly didn't care what sort of damage or pain he was causing to his victim, as Dave felt him shove his cock more and more in, just pushing it and forcing it, almost battering his way into Dave's hole, and wrapping a hand tightly across his mouth as Dave began to scream and yell out in pain. Nobody would come to investigate. They never did.

His vision became hazy as the attacker pushed his cock further in still and when Dave felt the wiry, coarse pubic hair nestling against his ass indicating that the guy was all the way in, he felt vomit rise up through his throat, into his mouth and spurt against the hand of the attacker, who was still holding his mouth shut firmly. He heard him give out a cry of disgust as he removed his hand and wiped it on the back of Dave's sweater, as Dave coughed and gagged and spat up the remaining sick onto the leaves and grass below him. He felt so woozy that he only gave a low groan of discomfort when the attacker pushed his head down into his own pool of vomit and used this new leverage to start to drive his cock in and out of Dave's hole with full force. Each thrust seemed like it was damaging his internal organs and each stroke going in and out burned his insides and made Dave feel like he was going to shit.

The pain was unbearable but the humiliation was the worst. The sound of the guys balls slapping furiously against his ass as he rutted away on top of him like a horned up dog. The moans of ecstasy from the guy that caused Dave to cringe and shut his eyes tightly, trying his best just to escape somewhere in his mind, in some dark, faraway part in the corner of his head where he could just shut down and endure this without actually having to _be_ there to endure it. The obscene sound of flesh on flesh and knowing that there was absolutely nothing he could do about this was tearing his dignity to shreds while the guy was doing the physical equivalent to his ass, ripping him apart and enjoying every minute of his debasement.

The attacker dropped his chest against Dave's back and began to hump him now, almost lazily, and this sickened Dave even more than the previous, more faster fucking. This was almost tender, somewhat loving, as though he _wanted_ this though nothing was further from the truth. He gave out a further series of garbled pleas, but this only made his attacker laugh, before striking him again with the steel weapon wrapped around his hand. The bastard was enjoying his pain and seemed to get off at the sight of how much blood was dripping from the wounds on Dave's face. Not content with that, Dave could feel him start to wriggle around on top of him, slipping his cock from side to side, with the full intention of stretching his hole as much as he could. It seemed he wasn't satisfied with just raping him - he wanted to open him up fully, to leave Dave with a constant reminder of what had happened this night, and what would happen again if he chose to live this dirty lifestyle, though he didn't seem to know that Dave wasn't a part of this at all.

Dave's ass continued to feel like it was on fire and the cock that felt like it was getting shoved right up into his guts still made him want to vomit with every thrust it delivered. He was too weak to yell out when the attacker grabbed a fistful of his hair and wrapped his other hand around Dave's mouth again as the humping got faster and more determined, before he felt the guy tense up on top of him and heard the whispered _oh fuck_'s in his ear as he rammed his cock all the way to the hilt and kept it there, causing Dave to feel the tremors and shudders from his attacker, before he felt a slightly warm flooding in his ass. The attacker collapsed fully onto Dave's back, panting profusely, and the all familiar smell of man sweat emitting from the assailants body that Dave was so used to, having practically spending most of his time in the gym and the locker rooms, now disgusted him and made him want to die as it mingled into his own skin. He felt like he would smell like this forever, that a thousand showers wouldn't get rid of the scent and the shame he felt at this moment.

They seemed to stay in that position for a while before the attacker pulled his cock from him roughly and leapt up in one swift movement before kicking Dave with full force, while Dave did his best to curl up into himself, to protect as much of his body as he could. This only seemed to infuriate the man more, who kept pulling Dave's arms out of the way and then striking him with renewed vigour when left unprotected. It felt like it was never going to end, but eventually did. Dave heard the footfall of the attacker run through the bushes and get fainter by the second. He tried to lift his head up, but was in too much pain. He tried to call out for someone, _anyone_ to help, but couldn't. If death was coming for him, it would be a godsend at this moment.

He wasn't sure how long the ordeal had lasted, but the fact that some of the blood from the first couple of blows had now dried and crusted onto his face told him that it wasn't exactly a short ordeal. He tried to gather up the strength to move, but couldn't, and instead concentrated on his breathing the best that he could, injured head and broken body resting against the bed of cold leaves as he shut his eyes, to try and stop the world from swaying.

It was over. Though he couldn't shake off the feeling that for him, things had only just begun.

* * *

**And... we're done. Despite the last line I actually do think that this story is over now. **

**I enjoyed writing it and I'm glad I did but I think from looking at the title, the summary and just the general plot it shows that I really didn't know where I was going with this lol. That's not always a bad thing, though. I think I just like to have a more controlled reign on things I write =] **

**Anyways, thanks to all those that read it and those that reviewed, and will review. I'll probably write something else Glee-related soon, maybe something dark or maybe something general, so look out for it :)**

**Johnny x  
**


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